A Helping Hand
by Child of Loki
Summary: Legend of the Rangers fic. Maybe not the greatest B5, but I thought it might have some potential...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Pretty sure that all B5 belongs to JMS. And if not him, the characters and universe still definitely are not mine…**

**Author's note: I know LoR isn't regarded as great, good or even decent by B5 standards, but I still felt it had potential. Besides, we all know JMS' best stuff is the impressive story arcs, not the one-shots. And you all remember the pilot for B5, don't you? Anyway, for some reason I was inspired to play with the characters and plot setup by **_**To Live And Die In Starlight**_**. **

This particular planet wasn't the most attractive, especially for humans that held any love for the blue marble. However, it was ideal for those who wanted to disappear. Wanderers, peddlers, thieves, outlaws, the lost, the lonely… this was their place.

The need to escape past demons had created this world, this city. There were no resources on the dead planet worth utilizing. There was no strategic value to its location. In fact, it was out of everyone's way; Perfect for a colony of lost souls.

All who were running away ended up here, if they ran for long enough.

And this is where Sarah Cantrell's journey had found her. At least, she liked to think of it as a journey. There was something less cowardly about the term. For despite her abandonment of her previous life, she still clung to its ideals and her training. At heart, she was still Anla'Shok.

And so were her senses.

Her ears picked out a specific set of footfalls amongst the busy market street. Not hurried to arrive at a destination or leisurely strolling by the various merchandize and amenities offered; they didn't belong. But the most notable aberration was the fact that they were falling perfectly in sync with her own as she made her way down the dirty, hectic street.

Removing the hood of her cloak from atop her head, she expanded her range of vision while continuing to weave in and out of the foot traffic in order not to tip her stalker(s) off. Supposedly human sight wasn't the best in the universe, and normally Sarah was inclined to disagree, but with these creatures, she had to admit the deficiency. They were hard to look at when facing them straight on. They were near impossible to detect out of the corner of one's eye.

But she knew they were there, even if her eyes couldn't confirm their presence. She'd be a pretty lousy Ranger if she didn't. Of course, one could argue she was quite a lousy one on several counts, or that she could not even be considered amongst their numbers any more.

However, even though she may have broken the most sacred rule and backed down from a fight, if only an emotional one, and cravenly running away, she wasn't about to put others at risk. Anla'Shok were protectors.

There was an alleyway up and to the left a little. She remembered taking a wrong turn once before and ending up in the dead end. Common sense would argue against selecting an arena to face pursuers that disallowed any escape. But common sense wouldn't have one believe that a lone person could walk unscathed out of a fight with half a dozen assailants. In short, common sense didn't take those into account those who_ walked in the dark places no others would enter._

She squeezed in between two aliens whose mass outdid her own even when taking into account her special condition. Strategically placing a hand on the offending bulk, she supported her large belly and the child growing inside. It was time to employ some of those furtive skills. She slipped around the corner and into the alley with as much stealth as she was presently capable.

Not being a complete fool, Sarah knew better than to place too much faith in her abilities and let her guard down. These people (could she even call them that?) had stalked her before. No, this was nothing new. Almost since she had first run away they had been chasing her. They would not be evaded by such an elementary ruse.

Keeping one hand and arm supporting her end-term belly, her right hand went to the Denn'Bok buried deep in her cloak as she blended into a doorway. There were always arguments against favoring one hand over the other, but in her condition she wasn't about to choose the left just because she had been relying too heavily on her right. If it was stronger, she was going to use it: These bastards did not go down easy.

And there they were. Black cloaks. They always wore black cloaks that obscured their heads. Maybe it was because they were so utterly disturbing to creatures accustomed to seeing faces on their fellow life forms. Instead of features, there was nothing, a smooth black head devoid of eyes, ears, mouths, noses… Just the black skin that was like a starless void except for the veins of subtly glowing deep violet, a violet so deep it was another black. She had found out it was what they bled. At least, before their bodies decomposed within seconds of what she assumed was their deaths. She still hadn't figured out that part.

But with the way things were going, she was about to get another chance.

They had passed by in their creepy, almost floating way. The only reason she knew they had feet was because of the footfalls that echoed off the adobe-like walls. Then again, she had never had time to examine the bodies before they disintegrated into a cloud of particles.

Stepping out of her hiding place, she stood tall and adorned her most intimidating face. When a group of menacing aliens and a Ranger were in a deserted alley that dead-ended, the aliens were the ones in trouble.

"Looking for me?" she asked.

They never answered, at least not in words. Six sets (they always came in posses of six) of hands rose. Long, sleek black fingers slipped away dark hoods, revealing the abyss of faceless heads. And yet, she felt them stare, felt their cold hatred for her.

"I will defend myself," she stated, as she had half a dozen other times. She brandished the Minbari fighting pike, the preferred weapon of all rangers. "I'm giving you this chance to just walk away. I _suggest _you take it."

Their response was the same as it ever was; the cold hateful stare. This time there seemed to be a bit more arrogance in the feeling she got from them. They seemed to say that she was getting weaker every time she encountered them. They knew that all they had to do was keeping trying her. Eventually, she would no longer be able to fend them off.

If that time was ever going to arrive, did they know it would be that moment? With her belly about to pop, this was as compromised as they'd ever find her. Too bad for them, she had every intention of not only fighting, but winning.

Perhaps, they sensed this in her. Perhaps, they just grew impatient. Either away, they began to advance. Kicking was out of the question with her extra burden of flesh, so she relied primarily on her Denn'Bok. A few, quick, blows smashed two of them in the sides of their sleek, expressionless heads, dropping them to the ground. She had learned their weak spots…or spot (unfortunately, only the one), as it were.

The demonstration caused the others to back off momentarily. She wasn't as feeble as they had expected. Maybe if they realized she still had teeth, they'd retreat, cut their losses and leave.

And it looked as if they were contemplating their options, cocking their heads to the sides as if they were listening to something. More telling, there was a falter in the malevolent aura that seemed to perpetually surround these creatures, at least in Sarah's encounters with them. Yes, she could win this one, hopefully without too much more struggle.

Then, there was a complication. It was the strangest sensation she had ever felt, but she knew precisely what it was the instant her water broke. Labor wasn't to be entirely unexpected, she supposed. This was obviously a stressful situation. Plus, she never knew precisely when she was due, since it could have been any number of times that she and… And being on the run, she hadn't exactly gone to see a doctor, or anyone of a medical persuasion, really. At least, none that knew humans.

Her knees grew weak as muscle spasms permeated her belly, and she backed herself against the nearest wall for support. It fell like she had been stabbed and they were twisting the blade. She cried out.

The assailants, previously hesitant, now began to bear down upon her. She swung her fighting pike in a sloppy but powerful swipe, halting their advance. Her back was to the wall, but she was thankful for it as she desperately fought to stay on her feet.

"Stay back!" she cried out desperately at them, making another threatening swipe. They heeded her threat, but remained close. She felt like a cornered animal. But cornered animals were notoriously vicious, not to mention the ferocity of pregnant ones. And she was just as likely to bite. "I said get back!"

Oh, god it hurt so bad! Why would anyone choose to go through this? Okay, the first time, they wouldn't know better, like she hadn't. But to have another one?!

Sarah found herself sliding down the wall with every passing second. The pain tearing at her insides threatened delirium. Generally, whenever she was injured to the extent of this agony, she'd be on the verge of loosing consciousness. And even with the menacing, evil creatures, she silently begged for it.

Closer, they were getting closer.

Sarah Cantrell forced herself to rise to her feet. Maybe she had left the Anla'Shok. But the Anla'Shok had not left her.

Setting her jaw, she opened her mouth to speak her last.

"We live for the One. We die for the One."

**A/N: There is more…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Babylon 5, its many incarnations, or its numerous characters…**

**Author's note: Someone asked for more, or at least was somewhat encouraging. And since I had already written more, I figured it would be rude to deny you it. My facts are not spot on (I stretched the artificial gravity-shuttle thing to meet my needs) and situations are probably a little overdramatic. But it was just for fun…**

"We also kill for the One," a confident and familiar voice announced. "But it doesn't sound quite as heroic, does it?"

"But it is the adage you should heed," another familiar voice added.

The creatures turned their attention away from Sarah, who was too shocked to collapse as she so badly wanted to do. A mêlée broke out before her eyes, but there was too much confusion for her to immediately ascertain who was involved. From the voices, she was fairly certain she knew, but perhaps she just wanted it so badly to be them that her mind had made up the connection.

When the dust settled (it took them a little longer to dispense with the creatures, for they had not her experience and knowledge of them), she was jubilant to realize her mind hadn't played tricks with her. That was, until the pain of labor surfaced in her attention once more.

Her saviors went to her immediately, looking as happy to see her as she had felt upon seeing them.

"Why didn't you help us finish those guys off?" David Martell asked ironically, a broad grin lighting his face and eyes. At his side, Dulann mirrored his friend's joy with a more reserved smile of his own.

"Sorry!" Sara barked at the pair. "Sort of in labor here!"

"I can see that," David responded a little less facetiously, and looking a lot more concerned. "Do you think you can make it to the _Liandra_?"

"The _Liandra_'s here?" she asked between controlled breaths. Never had she thought she was that attached to the crappy old piece of junk, but she had missed the ship more than almost anything else, including David.

"Yes. Well, it's in this system. We took a shuttle," Dulann answered. "But we should get you to the _Liandra_ as soon as possible, so Firell can attend to you."

She smiled. It was sweet. Dulann was obviously a bit overwhelmed by his concern for her. Looking to David, she found herself frustrated. Sometimes, but not all the time, she found it impossible to tell what he was feeling. Unfortunately, this was one of those times. Why did he have to be this way now, when she needed him so badly?

No matter, she had other problems to worry about, like walking across the city.

…

Surprisingly, it was not that difficult at all for her to make it to the small ship David and Dulann had taken to the planet, especially with their help. They sat her down in the back, and David stood up, heading for the controls. Grabbing his hand, Sarah stopped him.

"Please stay with me," she said quietly and earnestly. These were the people she had run away from, and yet, she had never felt more attached to anyone. She needed them. She needed _him._

"Alright," David conceded after a moment in which he searched her eyes. He turned to the only other person presently capable of flying the shuttle. "Dulann, would you…"

"Certainly," the Minbari replied in his usual, complying tone. With a nod of his head he left the pair of humans and slipped into the pilot's seat.

David opted to sit down beside Sarah as Dulann announced their take-off. The human Ranger took her hand, but shyly looked away, as if he were studying something in the distance. How could he be so calm about all of this? Shouldn't he have a hundred things to say, to ask her? Hadn't he had months to think about this reunion?

Or was it just her who had dwelt on the past?

Then again, she hadn't said much of anything either. But she had the excuse of being in labor. Speaking of which, why had the pain gone? Maybe the endorphins had kicked in? Or perhaps, the shock of seeing her old friends had distracted her? Had it been false labor?

No, her water had definitely broken.

Oh! And there it was! The pain returned and forced her to take in a sharp breath, as well as squeeze David's hand, alerting him to her discomfort. Releasing the breath with a hiss, she tried to relax her body, which had begun to squirm in an attempt to escape the pain.

Now, he was staring at her with concern. She tried to concentrate on his face instead of the contraction as she desperately attempted to control her breathing. He gently touched her cheek with his free hand, and it soothed her beyond anything she thought possible.

It also brought back memories.

She wanted to pull him close, to hold him, to feel his warmth, to smell his scent again. But at the same time, she wanted to push him away, to scream, to smash things. Discomfort made her angry. And she knew whose fault it was for her current suffering.

"How are you doing?" he asked her. She glared at him with such loathing that had he not known her, he probably would've recoiled. But he was not swayed by her aggression and remained close by her side. She was grateful for his fortitude; grateful and so very _angry._

Maybe it wasn't the best way to bring a child into the universe, but it was how she dealt with situations that threatened to overwhelm her. Often, her temper was the only thing which allowed her to survive.

Somehow, David remained sweet and attentive to her. She wanted to strangle him for the smile that lingered upon his lips and thrived in his eyes.

"Everything will be fine," he reassured her as she voiced her discontent with a sustained growl. "We're almost to the _Liandra_ where Firell will take good care of you."

"Oh!" Sara cried out her disagreement. "What would a Minbari know about delivering a human baby?!"

"Anla'Shok healers study all the member species of the Interstellar Alliance," David replied calmly, irritating her further. _Damn_ him for even being able to understand the words she grunted between anguished breaths. And _damn _him for responding with such stable serenity!

"That doesn't mean she knows anything about…" Sara grasped for an insult, for a description of what she was experiencing…and failed. Instead, she let herself trail off, temporarily relieved from the subsidence of agony. There was just a knife in her stomach. It was no longer being twisted about.

"I have every confidence in Firell's abilities," David asserted as she concentrated on catching her breath. Something was fishy in his confidence, in his tranquility throughout the situation. He should have at least been somewhat shocked about this ordeal, if not completely surprised by her condition. But he hadn't once even batted an eye, done a double-take. She scrutinized his placid face, hating his emotional control which she could never come close to matching.

"You knew," she said quietly, realization sparking a new fury within her. Her head shook in disbelief. "Oh my god, _you knew_?!"

"I have read that human females are entirely capable of giving birth without any assistance whatsoever," Dulann interjected from the cockpit, several seconds removed from the conversation.

"SHUT UP!" Sarah shouted at him, feeling the knife twisting again. Turning back to her would-be comforter, she grabbed him by his smug collar and pulled him down close.

"And you," she hissed at him. "When did you…_How _did you know?!"

"Sarah, can't we talk about this later?" he pleaded, his cool demeanor finally broken. The satisfaction derived from breaking the man did little to assuage her temper, especially considering that her body was beginning to send her messages she really didn't want to receive.

She shoved him away to be dealt with later. And, oh boy, was she going to make him pay. But what was currently more important was not hyperventilating. Controlling her breathing took all of her concentration, but she noticed that David was at her side again within seconds of her tossing him away. There was a persistence about him that she both envied and detested.

No longer could she withstand sitting half-leaning against the bulkhead and half-sprawled out on the floor. It was unbearably excruciating as she felt the baby shifting inside of her. She could swear that the poor thing was stuck, causing her body's futile efforts to expel the offspring solely to augment the agony setting her nerves aflame.

"Help me up!" she managed to bark between moans and rapid breaths. Apparently, this request was unfathomable to David, who gave her a look that said as much. "I want to stand up!"

Grabbing his arm, she began the struggle. Eventually he caught on, lest he be pulled over on top of her, not something to which she was likely to react well. He tried to help her up, but even with artificial gravity, the shuttle's flight was anything but smooth, and he ended up catching her instead.

At least, she had made it off her back and onto her knees, Sarah conceded as David's arms wrapped around her as much as they could with her round belly between them. Hugging him close, she was compelled to cuddle into his embrace. She buried her face in his shoulder and took in a deep draught of his scent. His presence released her from her physical turmoil, if however momentarily. She hadn't realized how much she missed him. He was her everything.

If only she could stay wrapped up in his arms, _in him_, again…

"No," she barked. No! That was what got her into this mess. Shrugging David off from her, she turned away from him, but found it impossible to walk away on her knees. Instead, she collapsed onto all fours. The shift in position did once again ease the agonizing tension of her insides briefly. But within moments she was back to panting like it was the most trying exertion of her life. And she was quite sure that it was the closest she had ever been pushed to her physical limits.

Somehow she managed to get to her feet, clawing her way up the wall, ultimately resting her forehead against the cool metal-hybrid material Minbari engineers employed. _Stupid Bastard! _Despite the fury she had thrown his way, David was still trying to help her, not that he could do much. He had come up behind her and was reaching a hand out to stroke her arm. Next the placations would come, the assurances that everything was going to be okay.

She slapped his hand away before it could touch her, continuing to study the flat color of the wall directly in front of her face. Inhaling and exhaling became the center of her consciousness, an attempt to drive away the thoughts of her ex-lover and what she'd like to do to him. Whimpers and moans began to force their way out of her throat.

"Oh god," Sarah moaned, her knees growing weak. "It's really happening."

"What clue tipped you off?" David asked sarcastically. A man could really only take so much and still be sincerely pleasant. The glare made him bite his acerbic tongue.

"I mean the baby's not going to wait any longer, idiot!" she managed to growl as her breathing returned to an uncontrollably rapid pace.

"Dulann!" David shouted over the din of Sarah's strained cries. "What's our ETA?"

"We are approaching the rendezvous coordinates and should be docked in a matter of hours," the Minbari responded calmly albeit loudly.

"Hear that, Sarah?" David asked, brushing some stray locks of hair away from where they had stuck to her sweat-soaked cheeks. "Just a few more minutes."

"No!" she managed to contradict his reassurance. Flipping her back to the wall, she aimed her concern directly to him. "No time!"

"Just breathe," he soothed. "And try to relax."

"You don't…_oh…_ seem to…to understand," she said, her voice sounding visceral and beyond strained as she struggled for air. "I can't…_stop_...this…_unh_…from happening."

He finally appeared to get the message and gave her a serious look.

"Okay," he conceded. "But what can I…?"

"_Unh_!" Panting prevented her from giving an immediate response. "My-my pants…get them off…_oh…_underwear, too."

"Alright." Sarah noticed David swallowing hard. The gravity of the situation had finally hit him. Up to ten seconds ago, it was something that was happening to someone else. Even if he had cared about her, still did, she could tell that he hadn't actually believed he had an active role of involvement in her labor.

His hands at her waist brought back memories that had no right to surface at a time like this. How could her mind think of those things when her body was acutely paying for the consequences?

"See if-_unh_-if I'm..._oh_…dilated enough," Sarah requested, feeling the incredible urge to push. The best way to describe the look she received from David was that of someone being asked to face a particularly nasty monster armed with nothing but a spoon. It begged for confirmation of what he had heard.

"NOW!" she screamed, and then upon seeing his frightened look, added in as politely a manner she was currently capable, "if you'd please…"

Hesitantly, he nodded his head, still looking as if this was one of the last things he ever wanted to experience. He touched the hem of her dress like it would explode if he moved too quickly.

"You were…_oh god_… all too eager to... to get in there before!" She berated his hesitancy to aide her. He succumbed to the pressure and lifted the skirt of her dress.

"Well?!" she inquired desperately as she studied the ceiling.

"Uh…" David sounded the most uncertain she had ever heard him. Of course, this was outside of his expertise. "There's definitely something going on down here."

"I know!" she shouted. There was no real justification for it. Hell, she had no clue why the reason was. But she just knew, no _felt_ that it was time to push. The problem was that she had no one to reassure her of this with sound advice. "But…_ah! _Am I going to tear?"

If it was bad enough, she might bleed to death before they got her to the _Liandra_. But she really had no more choice in the matter.

"You-you're going to ha-_ah-_ve to deli-ver the baby, David," she informed him. Thankfully, he gave her a look of determined acceptance rather than uncertainty. It was the support she so badly needed.

…

"She's beautiful," David whispered as he cradled the newborn in his arms. He tenderly cleaned the blood and tissue from her tiny face with his vest that he used to swaddle her. She finally began to cry.

It was a small and lonely sound that reminded David of his other concern. In his adoration of the new life, he had momentarily forgotten about the woman who had created it.

"Sarah?" he probed, sidling up to where she had collapsed onto the floor in exhaustion. It was beyond messy. Blood and tissue stuck to her naked thighs and pooled on the surface beneath her. There was a heavy sheen of sweat glistening on her exposed flesh, and the lightweight fabric of her dress clung to her drenched skin.

Her eyes were closed and the color was draining from her already pale skin, but her chest was rising and falling in an encouraging manner. He nudged her with his knee, afraid to upset the fragile gift wrapped in his arms.

Sarah's pallid lips parted ever so slightly and she whimpered. David knew that she was exhausted beyond anything he could ever understand, but if only she would come around enough to hold her baby, he knew it'd perk her up.

This wasn't good. She was tougher than this. Cradling the baby girl in one arm, he placed his hand against Sarah's cheek. By now, her body should've been cooling down after its immense physical exertion. Instead, he found her skin feverish. This really wasn't good.

"Dulann?" he called, still careful as not to disturb the infant that was somewhat settling into his arms.

"Yes, David?" His friend's voice was always so calm and such a comfort in distressing situations.

"How much longer?" he asked, knowing his own voice, edged with worry, was quite the opposite of his friend's.

"I see her now." That was all that was required for a response that lent confidence. Procedures immediately began for docking, and David returned his attention to the woman fading away before his eyes.

He found the discarded black leggings nearby and bundled them up, sticking them between her thighs in attempt to stem the flow of blood there. And then he resumed stroking her cheek, saying her name in desperation for her to wake.

**A/N: There will be plot. If I ever get to it…**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bablyon 5 or the universe in which it exists, including the Rangers amongst others… I believe they belong to the Great Maker (aka JMS)…**

**Author's Note: This is more sap/fluff than anything else, but contains very minor plot revelations. Actual plot may make an appearance soon (depending upon my motivation)…**

Firell had stopped the bleeding easily enough, and the color had begun to return to Sarah's cheeks. But the most encouraging sign of her recovery was the smile that lit her face as she held her baby girl close. David hadn't left their side, as Firell cleaned them up and released them to his quarters. He had insisted she take his bed in order to fulfill the prescription of bed rest.

What once had been Sarah's quarters had been given to their new weapon's specialist. She couldn't have possibly expected them to hold the coveted space on such a small ship, or not request a replacement after she had upped and disappeared all those months ago…

But she didn't seem to be complaining about the arrangement. Rather in a very uncharacteristic manner, she looked radiantly happy, truly and sincerely content. Sitting on the edge of the bed, David simply smiled at the novelty of this new version of one of his closest friends.

When she looked up from her little bundle of joy (something she did rarely in the few hours since the babe was placed in her arms), Sarah seemed to catch the amusement in David's face. Her face became the more common, harsh and accusatory one that he had loved and missed nonetheless.

"What?" she barked, a glare failing to truly diminish the glow of motherhood softening her features.

"Nothing," David automatically defended. "It's just… I've never seen you so happy. Not even when we were together."

"Oh!" She exclaimed, then quickly glanced down to the disturbed infant in her arms before she continued on in a whisper that was somehow no less evocative. "Such an ego on you, David Martell. You just assumed that you were the best thing to ever happen to me?"

He smiled wickedly. "I didn't say that. But there must be some truth in it since you jumped immediately to that conclusion."

She shook her head and released an exasperated sigh. "I can't believe I missed you."

"You missed me?" David sought confirmation, perhaps pushing her too far, but longing for the teasing more than every other part of their interactions save one; one that, given all her cursing and hostilities while giving birth, would never occur again.

She looked away, obviously refusing to give him the pleasure of her response, or even the reaction she could not stop from coloring her face.

_Time to change the subject._

"Is she asleep?" David asked, leaning over to see the newborn child's tiny face. She sure looked like she was in the depths of a blissful slumber, but he waited for the mother's confirmation before suggesting that they put her down in the makeshift cradle and give Sarah a chance to rest. The reluctance was evident in the woman's concerned eyes, but David was able to persuade her simply with a meaningful look; However much she wanted to, Sarah could not hold on to her daughter every minute of every day for the rest of her life.

Placing the helpless little girl in the cradle beside his bed with as much tenderness and adoration as if she were his own, David contemplated the fact that she very likely was. When he returned his attention to Sarah, he could tell she knew what thought was preoccupying his mind. She made room for him to sit down beside her and he took the invitation.

Several moments passed in silence, before David realized that he had to be the one to initiate the conversation.

"What happened, Sarah?" he asked softly, knowing how she'd react if even an infinitesimal hint of accusation was perceived there. It was frustrating, but he knew she didn't behave mercurial on purpose. It was simply who she was, and at times beyond her control. Thankfully, she proved stable thus far, albeit unresponsive. He pressed on. "Is she mine? Is that why you left?"

There was a pause. And then he got his answer: A single word that held such solidity such weight. Yet, it was the most airy, wispiest utterance he had ever heard uttered by the fiery female.

"Yes."

Yes, the darling girl he had held in his arms during her first moments of life belonged to him as well. And yes, she had been the reason Sarah Cantrell had run away. _He _had been the reason for his own heartache.

"Please don't ask me to explain myself," Sarah continued to speak quietly. David knew her coolness was not just because of the sleeping child a few feet away. "You won't be able to understand."

"I have to admit it hurts that you think that, but I'll take your word on it," David conceded. He had just gotten her back. Pushing her away over petty arguments was the last thing he wanted to do. There was something else besides their personal issues that he wanted to ask her about. "Do you know why those _things _were after you?"

"No," Sarah replied more quickly, appreciating the change in subject matter. "I was going to ask you about them. Do you know who they are? What they wanted with me?"

David knew that he had to tell her, but momentarily he considered sparing her the complication and burden of the truth. She had already been through so much, had so much responsibility thrust upon her. And he did not wish to weigh her down with more.

"We believe that they're minions of the Hand," David confessed.

"Like the ones that destroyed the _Valen_ and the colony on Beta Durani 7?" Sarah asked, apparently shocked. "But why would they come after me? I'm not a threat to their plans of universal domination or whatever other evil schemes they're hatching! I'm not of any consequential importance. I'm not even a Ranger anymore!"

"You're important to me," David admitted quietly. That was why he had been tracking her down since the moment she had vanished, secretly during missions, and openly between assignments.

"What does that have to do with anything?" she criticized, her cheeks blushing at the compliment. The odd thing was that she had only realized the reverse was true after she had run away. While she remained on the _Liandra_, in David's arms and affection, Sarah possessed no certainty to the nature of her feelings for the man. But when she left…she missed him more than anything.

"Apparently, I've been somewhat of an annoyance to them," David explained. Like Sarah, he couldn't really see how someone as insignificant as himself could possibly be a problem for such a purportedly immense force as the Hand. "They had some of their underlings send me a message. I was to stay away from the outer sectors or they would harm you."

There was a brief pause once more in which David attempted to squelch the distressing thought of Sarah being in danger or pain and Sarah considered why the Hand thought she was so important to David. And why were they such a threat to the Hand to merit such craven, hostile action?

"But they didn't count on your being so difficult to capture, did they?" David said with affection and pride in his manner. She had fended them off until the very last, bought him time to catch up to her, and help her when her resilience had finally failed her.

Sarah smiled weakly at him. And David suffered the shock of his life as he recognized tears welling in the eyes of the toughest individual he had ever encountered. Not even during the apparently excruciating pain of childbirth had she cried. Her temper always saw her through periods of turmoil.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sidling closer to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder. An overwhelming feeling of contentment engulfed him as she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. He was concerned for her distress, but having her close undeniably made him a happier soul.

"I…I just can't help but wonder…What would they have done to _her_ if they had captured me," Sarah voiced the greatest fear she had ever known. David hugged her close, rubbing her arm and kissing her forehead.

…

"Sarah," David sighed quietly, studying her serenely sleeping face. What happened to her, what had changed her so much? What path had he put her on that day he couldn't control his urges? He could remember it so vividly, cursed himself every day for it since she had left.

It had been a stressful time. The ship was falling apart at the seams, as usual, and they were limping home…barely. Every single soul aboard was pitching in with the repairs. David wasn't all that certain that the sheer will of the crew wasn't the only thing holding her together. He had been deliriously exhausted, frustrated beyond reason…for more things had gone wrong beyond even his capacity for optimism. Like the ship, he had been falling apart at the seams.

And as was her way, Sarah Cantrell had become even sharper with her tongue and less discriminatory with her temper as her own stress levels exceeded her capabilities to cope. David was normally the last one to loose his calm and placidity, excepting Dulann and some of the other Minbari. But at that time, Sarah's biting sarcasm and bitter attitude had ground against his raw nerves. And she snapped back at him one too many times.

David had pulled her into a closet, meaning to privately admonish her, instead of making a scene in front of the crew. However, while standing there, in the pulsating light created by the _Liandra's_ intermittent power supply, facing down a furious woman who was drenched in sweat, every muscle tensed in exhaustive stress, something in him snapped. Perhaps that small, frayed thread that was tying him to sanity finally broke. Or maybe he really just couldn't deal with such stress when it came down to it. But whatever the reason, he gave in to the desire of forcing her to submit.

He didn't know what in his sleep-deprived brain concluded that sex was the best way to dominate her, to relieve his stress, and unburden her from the tension that had visibly hardened every muscle in her body. Roughly, he forced her against the wall, his hand at her throat, his mouth devouring her lips. She shoved him back, and as he staggered a few steps, he realized the incredible mistake he had made. However, before he could begin to feel guilty, he recognized that same ravenous beast reflected in her eyes.

And then she had pounced…

Their anger and frustrations had been melted away by passion, leaving behind only a confusion and awkwardness. Eventually, they had overcome the awkwardness, seeking out one another's beds on numerous occasions. But the confusion had remained, still remained.

What exactly had happened between them? Why had she been afraid to face him?

"Sarah, Sarah, Sarah," David repeated softly, trying to figure out what had gone through her mind when she left, what she was thinking now that she had returned. Things could never be the same again, so what did she want?

"That's my name," she replied, surprising David who had thought her still fast asleep. She couldn't have been too far from it, her eyes still closed, her voice a sluggish whisper. "Don't wear it out. Or I'll make you get me a new one."

"I've always liked 'Mimsy'," David teased. Her eyes shot open with a flash of the temper he so loved.

"Don't you dare call me that…ever," she threatened sans any sort of playful glint in her eye.

"What about the baby?" he continued, unwilling to let her win so easily, without even giving him a smile.

"_What about _my _baby_?" she asked back. The significance she placed on her possession of their child hurt him, but still he was unwilling to stop.

"We can call her 'Mimsy,'" he explained. Maybe she just realized that he was joking, or maybe she finally could no longer suppress her amusement so completely, but a small smirk twitched at the corner of her mouth.

"Don't think that I won't kill you," she retorted. "Just because you saved our lives."

**A/N: Not sure how much more there will be before I tire of it and wander off… (I believe there is the makings of at least one more chapter around here somewhere...)**


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